we're all hurricanes
by Flying With The Wolves
Summary: It's been 75 years since the vampires were defeated in a war with the united clans of the Grounders. The arrival of the Skaikru had a stir on the vampire community. In particular, one girl named Lydia, a doppelganger, has caught the eye of the last leader of the vampires. It's a power grab for all sides to get their hands on her, to finish off a very old war.
1. Chapter 1

Blood pounded in her ears as she ran. Her knuckles turned white with the force she held her knife. The sound of hooves and calls filled the night, and glimmers of torchlight shimmered out of the dark. The surroundings blurred together; mud-caked hair flew out behind her as she fled.

Despite every precaution, it had taken barely over a month for Clarke to be caught. She was an invader in foreign Grounder territory. She had crossed a significant amount of territory before beginning to settle in. She kept to herself mostly, outside of the villages. Occasional supply trips into surrounding villages provided the necessary food, and the opportunity to try and collect news about Camp Jaha. It was scarce, what with the distance she had attempted to put between her and the horrors of Mount Weather.

Though her grasp of _Trigedasleng_ was improving, the calls of the warriors on her tail were unrecognizable. They were gaining. They had been chasing her all day, and though her legs were wearing, she kept pushing. If she kept running, she would lose them, or find somewhere to hide. She had to, if she wanted to live another day.

The calls became louder, more frantic. Clarke quickened her pace, adrenaline her only fuel. The hoof beats grew softer, and the pursuing horses snorted in alarm. She risked a quick glance over her shoulder, and what she saw froze in her mind as she whipped back around, continuing to dart forward through the trees.

As though they had met a wall, the horses had pulled up short, eyes rolling back and forth in terror as they snorted. Bathed in the glow of the torches, the faces of her pursuers were wary. More than a few weapons were in their hands as they peered into the trees. More calls passed between them, words Clarke didn't recognize. One in particular echoed repeatedly through the group. ' _Kripa_ ' they said. Despite the distance Clarke was putting between them, they didn't move forward to pursue.

Hardly daring to believe her luck, a hysterical laugh crawled out of her throat. She had managed to outrun them. Her legs shook beneath her, but she wasn't going to rest until she put a good mile between them at the least. Clarke kept up a steady pace for another twenty minutes, slowing to a jog as the adrenaline faded and exhaustion set in. The babble of water nearby turned her from her course. A tiny stream of water glittered in the moonlight, beckoning Clarke with the promise of quenching her now ravenous thirst.

Stowing her knife in her belt, the blonde knelt to fill her water skin. Watching the water trickle in, Clarke found her mind wandering back to the chase. Why had they broken off their pursuit? All at once too, stopped in a group near a gnarled old tree. She had never seen a Grounder show fear, but the cautious looks on their faces were the closest she had seen. Surely it wasn't because of her; the horses wouldn't fear her in any case.

Suddenly, Clarke found herself uneasy. The image of the anxious horses was forefront in her mind. Those horses were trained for war, present in more battles than Clarke herself. They were nearly as blood-soaked as their riders. What frightened war horses? Frowning, she stowed away the water skin. She would have to be wary. If she had crossed a border, the Grounders here would be different than the ones she left behind. Each clan was unique, and each had its own set of rules.

The stars mirrored in blue eyes as Clarke studied the night sky through the branches, looking to get her bearings. She was headed south from Camp Jaha and Tondc. She had studied maps of the North American continent as it was before the nuclear apocalypse, but she didn't know what lay in that direction now. Lexa was the only one with a map of the territories and capitals of the twelve tribes. For all Clarke knew, she could be wandering into something far worse than she left behind.

No, what could be worse than the slaughter behind her? The images of the dying soldiers, the civilians burning in their own skin in the depths of the mountain that had once sheltered them rose in her mind as she walked. Her friends, and her charges followed shortly thereafter. Monty, hunched against the cold and haunted by the slaughter. Jasper, his eyes full of accusations for Maya's death. Bellamy, brows furrowed in worry as he let her go on alone. Shaking her head free of the memories, Clarke walked on. She had left that life behind her.

She continued walking far beyond the stream before beginning to look for a place to rest for the night. The chill wind burrowed its way beneath her clothes, raising goosebumps. A twig snapped. The knife was in Clarke's hand at once. Her body was rigid as her eyes searched the trees. A swift movement caught her eye, and she whipped to her right. The trees were empty. Warily, she turned her head this way and that, searching for the enemy.

A tap on her shoulder brought her whipping around, knife poised, only to be frozen by a few simple words. "Don't move, and don't scream." Try as she might to drop her knife, Clarke found herself stuck staring into the eyes of a girl. She couldn't have been much younger than Clarke herself, what with her loose blonde curls, and her shining eyes. "Why did you come past the border? Be honest."

Clarke's mouth opened to spill out words before she could even consider what was happening. "I was being chased, and the horsemen stopped chasing me at a certain point. I didn't know there was a border."

"Do you know where you are?"

"No."

"Do you know what we are?"

"What does that mean?"

"You're one of them, aren't you? The people who lived in space."

"Yes."

The girl cocked her head, looking Clarke up and down. Despite the seemingly open and kind face before her, Clarke felt like prey being sized up by a predator.

"Does anyone else know you're here?"

"No."

"Good." The blue eyes pooled into red, black veins crawling up delicate cheekbones. Clarke barely got a glimpse before the younger girl lunged forward, sinking sharp teeth into Clarke's neck. The elder grunted, but didn't move. Despite how much she wanted to, she didn't scream either. She simply stared up at the winking stars, listening to the sucking noise just below her ear until the blackness came to claim her.

"It's a myth, sweetheart, nothing more. No one could have survived in space that long."

"She spoke English, Klaus! Look at her, she's not a warrior. She doesn't have any of the normal tattoos or marks that they have. How else would she know English?"

"There are a number of possible explanations, love."

"And you won't even consider mine?"

A dull throb began behind Clarke's eyelids. The blackness eased back as she drifted towards consciousness, beginning to focus on the bickering voices nearby. She remained frozen there, doing nothing to alter her breathing or her movement. Her head was propped up against something hard, and she could feel a twig digging into the back of her leg. Behind her felt chilly, but before her felt warm. Judging by the flicker of lights through her eyelids, Clarke could surmise she was in front of a fire.

"I compelled her and asked her if she was in space. She said she was!"

"All of Lexa's people are on vervain, Caroline. She was lying."

"I fed on her! There's no vervain in her blood."

"A clever ruse then. Make her believe she lived her life in space. Or maybe she's resistant to compulsion. Some humans are."

"So you're willing to consider she's one in a million humans who can resist compulsion, but not that she might have told me the truth?"

"We're done discussing this, Caroline."

"You are so infuriating!"

This last retort was yelled, and footsteps retreated off. There was a sigh of frustration and the sound of wet leaves kicked into the air. Clarke remained still, listening to the night sounds and the beat of her own heart. Who were these Grounders? They didn't talk like any she had met before.

"Domestic troubles?" A new voice, tinged with the same strange accent as the other man. Klaus, wasn't it?

"Go away, Enzo. I'm not in the mood to deal with you right now."

"And here I was thinking we were friends."

"Well, that was your first mistake. Your second one was coming over here to pester me when all I want to do is rip someone's head off."

"If I were you, I don't think I would rip the head off of the only person in camp who believes your space people theory."

There was a pause then, and Clarke could hear herself breathing in the stillness.

"You believe me?"

"I don't have to believe you, love. It's obvious she's not from around here just by looking at her." Despite herself, Clarke could hear her heartbeat speed up in her ears. "You would think Klaus would jump at this opportunity."

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"If you haven't noticed, we haven't had many new recruits in the last fifty years. I doubt many of us would have survived in a tiny space ship. They probably have no idea what we are. That means no vervain. They'll be easy prey, and maybe there are a few who'll make good recruits. I haven't eaten a good meal in a century."

If it was even possible, Clarke felt her blood run colder. They _ate people_?! Was that why they had brought Clarke here? To be a meal for these psycho monsters? It took a great effort to keep her hands from curling into fists, and to keep her breathing regular.

"It doesn't help that Lexa keeps her warriors out of our territory. It would be nice to feed on someone who doesn't have half a gallon of vervain in their system."

"Maybe we should get you a snack, love. You get testy when you're hungry."

"I am not testy!"

The man laughed, a rich sound. "Whatever you say, love. Come on."

And like that, the air was silent. Ears strained, but there was no sound of breathing or shuffling in the stillness. Was it… could it be? Was she alone? Heart hammering in her throat, Clarke dared to crack open an eye. A fire crackled brightly in front of her, burning her strained eyes. She blinked away the spots to see darkness surrounding her on all sides. The orange flames blocked out the stars, but Clarke was willing to bet that it was nearing morning.

Most importantly, there was no sign of her captors. There was no sign of anyone at all. This was it, her chance to get away. Leaves stirred beneath her as she rose to a crouch, flexing her muscles to try and restore the circulation. She'd been in worse situations, she reminded herself. Forcing herself into a state of calm, her eyes took in the heavily wooded forest around her. Those man-eating creatures could be behind any tree. It didn't matter. This was the best chance she would get. Glancing up to try and get her bearings, she picked a direction and moved silently into the trees.

The further she got from the camp, the faster she moved until she reached an all-out sprint. Her hair caught itself in her mouth as she ran. Terrified thoughts beat out a rhythm in her skull, until all she could see was that girl's face. Red eyes leered out of the darkness; the glitter of fangs gleamed out of every shadow.

There was a loud snap somewhere to her right. The girl paused in mid-step, limbs frozen and terrified eyes searching out the darkness. Wasn't that just how that girl had caught her before? They must have discovered her gone by now. Best to keep moving. With a sense of dread pooling in her stomach, her body turned, legs beginning to churn, before the air was knocked out of her with a huff. Strong hands wrapped around her waist, pinning her against the solid chest she had just smacked into.

"Now, now, don't struggle, love." Feral blue eyes crinkled in a smile as her arms went limp. No scream gathered in her throat: what would be the point?

"Let me go." The hiss she mustered wasn't as impressive as she would have hoped. Her captor chuckled, only a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"You're a feisty one. I like that. Most people soil themselves when I catch them."

"I'm not scared of you." A lie, but one said with a fierce scowl.

"Well, that would be foolish indeed. You absolutely should be scared of me." Dark veins crawled in his cheekbones. The blonde choked down a gag. "You're going to tell me all about your people, and when you're done, I'm going to drink from you until you die. Do you understand?"

Terror clawed at the inside of her throat. It must have slipped into her eyes, because the man with the iron grip smiled all the more fiercely. "Good. Don't worry, love, this is going to be fun.

"For me, anyway."


	2. Chapter 2

"Let's hear it for Lydia!"

Cups pounded against metal, supplemented by the hearty roar of dozens of voices. A strong hand clamped down on a slim shoulder, accompanied by a chorus of laughter. Boots clinked and liquid sloshed as its containers were hastily raised to the ceiling. Dark brown irises found dark brown, and smiles echoed each other, despite the throng of slightly intoxicated teens.

"She worked hard to get where she is. The old Ark told her she wasn't good enough to be a doctor." A chorus of boos accompanied this statement. "So she ended up down here with us. The Ark thought she, along with all of the rest of us, would die on the ground, but we survived!" The cheers were nearly deafening. "Lydia has showed us what persistence means. She's shown hard work. She continued fighting despite the odds. Now, she's going to be turning seventeen, and she's finally going to get what she's earned!"

The roar shook the brunette to her boots. "One more time, let's hear it for Lydia!"

The remains of the hundred delinquents sent on a death mission to the ground, rose to their collective, unsteady feet in thunderous applause. A deep blush flushed through Lydia's cheeks as hands rained down on her back, and the group drank to her success. Her eyes, however, were trained on the man dismounting from the table to stride over to her. A mop of unruly hair fell into his eyes, only to be carelessly pushed away as he reached her, grinning.

"I didn't even think you knew my name." Her laugh was awkward, and one hand went to nervously tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I know the names of all my people." Bellamy too clapped a hand on her shoulder. "You're one of us, Lydia. I know my own." Despite the increasing intoxication in the people around them, Bellamy seemed quite steady on his feet, and intent as he looked at her. "Congratulations, Lydia."

* * *

The party went on for most of the night, until the Chancellor decided that the party was getting too rowdy. She only tolerated the comradery of the former delinquents to a point. They were all members of Arkadia now. So Lydia was not alone when she stumbled out of the mess hall in the middle of the night. The songs of her stumbling companions rang out into the crisp night air, broken only by giggles. Lydia laughed as one of the boys stumbled and went down, yet continued his merry song.

She waved them off as she stumbled in the general direction of her sleeping quarters. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to get hammered the night before you started practicing medicine, but when you wait for a moment your entire life, you can't help but want to celebrate it. The cheery tunes of the piano rang in her ears; the moonlight reflected in dark eyes. She sucked in a deep breath, finally at peace.

That peace shattered half a minute later. A hand slapped over her mouth, yanking her backwards. A noise of surprise escaped her as she clawed at the powerful arms tugging on her. "Don't make me snap your neck," a low voice growled in her ear. Even after what she had seen in her time on the ground, Lydia couldn't help the whimper of terror that slipped through the fingers pressing against her face.

Her surroundings seemed to blur as she was pulled around, though only a couple of seconds later she was pushed up against a wall. Wait… how did she get to the other side of the camp…?

"I gotta say, Elena, hiding with the most conspicuous group of humans on the entire continent was kind of a stupid move." Eyes bright blue with the illumination of the moon bored into Lydia's dark brown. She wiggled in his grip, but he had her pinned fast. "You cut your hair." Curious fingers touched the chin length strands, and she tried to wrench her head away as much as she could with a hand still over her mouth, and alcohol still bubbling inside of her.

"You knew that if I didn't find you that Caroline would. She's downright obsessive, only she doesn't think it's such a good idea to leave those two in charge of what little remains of our species." Lydia's eyes widened in confusion, but he only continued on in soft tones, running his fingers down her neck now. "Even with Elijah gone, Klaus is still dangerous, and it's not like Enzo is exactly a good influence."

Anger was beginning to overwhelm fear the more his skin brushed hers, and aggression took over rationality. Her jaw creaked open beneath his hand before biting down on it. His swear cracked loud against the otherwise quiet of the night. His arm moved to pin her by her shoulders, dark blood dripping onto the crushed earth beneath them.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Fear, anger, and adrenaline all fueled her words, and she wiggled again in the strange man's grip.

"Ha ha, Elena. Very funny. I'm getting you back to Caroline. She's better equipped to deal with this than me…"

"Deal with what? Who's Caroline?" Her words were getting shriller, and the man's eyes rolled around, checking that no one could hear them.

"Shut up, Elena. There's no getting out of this one. We're going back to Caroline, let's go."

"Who's Elena?" Her voice rose even louder against the night as he wrenched her towards the camp's doors.

"What the hell do you mean, who's Elena?" Despite his question, he didn't seem too interested in the answer as he continued tugging her.

"Get off of me!" Fear and anger surfaced in her voice as she tried to wrench her arm away from an impossibly strong grip.

The man froze; his fingers tightened their bone crushing grip against her arm. Blue eyes found hers once again, and Lydia couldn't stop herself from swallowing. She was back against the wall again in seconds, his face uncomfortably close to her own.

"Who are you? Tell the truth." Lydia's mouth opened of its own volition as she helplessly watched his pupils dilate.

"Lydia Grayson."

"Tell me, Lydia Grayson, the worst thing you've ever done."

Her heart slammed into her throat, memories rising unbidden in her mind. Though she wanted nothing more than to clamp her mouth closed, the words tumbled from her mouth. "The grounders were attacking our camp. I couldn't let them kill us. I couldn't let them kill me. One attacked me and my knife…" Tears welled up in her eyes, but they didn't stop the narrative. "It ended up in her neck. I watched her bleed out in front of me, and I didn't even try to help her. I just watched her die."

The man was silent, searching her face. With the slightest breath of wind, he vanished. Lydia found herself stumbling forward, still slightly unsteady from the alcohol in her blood. The earth was cool and welcome beneath her palms, and frightened eyes darted in every direction. There was no sign of the man. He had simply vanished.

Should she tell someone? Lydia backtracked on that thought at once. What would she tell them? That somehow, a single man who didn't look like any grounder she had ever met, had breached all of Arkadia's defenses and come specifically after her in the dead of night? They would brush her off, considering that she had just been drinking at a particularly rambunctious party. To add the part where he made her talk about her greatest shame, that she had told no one in her life, simply by looking at her, would add to the ludicrous nature of the entire story.

She would keep it to herself for now. Despite the anger beating in her throat, she thought through what he had said very carefully. Something about her had resembled someone, Elena, but she had also convinced the man that she was not, in fact, Elena. So, who was he? And why was he so sure that she was Elena? Rubbing at the meat of her arm where his fingers had dug into her skin, she made her way back to her room.

How had he disappeared so fast?

* * *

"O!" Octavia didn't turn at her brother's call. Stone faced, she watched the grim procession marching to the gates. Indra was recognizable at the front, her stoic expression matching Octavia's. The rest were hooded, their faces thrown into shadow. Still, the younger Blake got the unnatural feeling that their eyes had trained on her. A warm presence at her back signaled the arrival of her brother. "Who are they?"

"I don't know." It irritated her to admit it, considering her own wealth of knowledge about the grounders and their culture. She would have called them an escort if she had seen a glitter of weapons at their sides. However, all but Indra seemed unarmed. A couple had crudely fashioned bags slung over their shoulders, or sacks tied to their belts, but nothing resembling swords or arrows. It seemed unusual for the leader of Trikru to come without sufficient protection into the territory of those she once considered enemies, despite their current truce.

Another crunch of boots caught Octavia's attention. Sharp eyes picked out the confident stride of Abby Griffin, followed by her constant shadow, Marcus Kane. "Indra!" Even her voice now commanded attention, as the guards at the gate snapped to attention. Octavia could feel Bellamy stiffen beside her. "We weren't expecting you tonight." Abby came to a halt, and the two leaders watched each other through the gate. Blue green eyes measured the serious looks on either woman's face, trying to measure the situation.

"Why is she here?" Bellamy's unspoken words rang clearly in Octavia's ears. _This means trouble_. Indra did not like being in the camp unless necessary.

"Chancellor, there is an important matter we must discuss." Abby maintained a diplomatic tone, though her skepticism was clear as she responded.

"Who are your friends?"

"They are advisors to the Commander. They have come to advise you of a problem." The warrior's eyes trailed first to the guards, and then to the gathering onlookers, Octavia and Bellamy among them. Octavia didn't try to hide her frown as she and Indra locked eyes. The elder woman looked away with seeming disinterest, eyes focusing once again on the Chancellor, whose curiosity was palpable.

"Come in." As though waiting for her command, the gates squealed open to admit the curious assembly. One of the hooded figures on the perimeter of the group looked up, and grey irises found Octavia. Immediately, the girl's stance shifted into one of readiness.

"What's wrong?" Normally, Bellamy's voice would have been cause for reassurance, but it did little to lessen the unease the hooded woman's stare instilled in her.

"I don't know. Something about them is wrong." Dangerously wrong, as though all the power in the camp had shifted to them. As soon as the woman's gaze had lighted on her, it was gone again, and the group began moving with the Chancellor towards a more secure meeting place. Octavia didn't relax until they were out of sight, and even then, unease shifted in the back of her mind.

"Why would they come here? Indra's barely spoken to the Chancellor in the past month. There's no reason for her to just show up unannounced at our door." Bellamy's murmurs were low as he thought aloud.

"Something's wrong." That much Octavia could be sure of.

"What would it be that Indra would tell us? Or ask for our help?" Octavia shook her head to tell him she didn't know. She finally looked up at his face, only to find him staring at her with a worried expression. She couldn't tell if he was worrying about her, or the peculiar arrivals. "Whatever it is, it's big, or she wouldn't bother coming to warn us. Not in person, anyway. She must need our help with something."

"Maybe it's one of the other clans." The thought worried the younger Blake considerably. There were clans larger and more fearsome than Indra's, and they bore no sense of loyalty to Skaikru. The Commander was the glue that held them all together, and even with her incredible strength, she couldn't easily change their hearts into accepting the strange group who had fallen from the sky.

"Let's hope it's not another war." Bellamy's eyes turned from his sister, out towards the distant trees. _Clarke's still out there_. Again, his unspoken words were clear to Octavia. Despite the long month wearing by with no sign of or word from Clarke, he hadn't given up the idea that she would come back to them. They had been partners in leading the hundred delinquents, and though Bellamy could certainly pick up the slack himself, it was clear he missed her presence.

"Come on, big brother." She put a hand on his arm, nodding in the direction Indra and her escort had gone. "Let's go do some snooping."

* * *

 **Author's Notes: Comment and tell me what you think!**


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